


Just Give Me A Taste (So I Know It's Alright)

by gentlyfillmyveins



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 02:39:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1493602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentlyfillmyveins/pseuds/gentlyfillmyveins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky loves Steve’s cock. The first thing he could remember in anything more than bits and pieces and disconnected flashes is Steve’s cock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Give Me A Taste (So I Know It's Alright)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first ficlet I've ever written. I've lurked about in many, many fandoms for almost a decade now, but never really had the courage to write anything of my own. Constructive criticism is begged for and very much appreciated. I would like to dedicate this first attempt to the wonderful arsenicjade, who has been one of my foremost writing inspirations and sort of mothered me into the world of fandom and fanfiction.

Bucky loves Steve’s cock. The first thing he could remember in anything more than bits and pieces and disconnected flashes is Steve’s cock. After the serum, when Steve finally felt confident enough to admit to feeling the same wild mix of arousal and love Bucky had been hiding since before Steve could’ve held Bucky up while he fucked him, Bucky had spent as much time as he could appreciating what he had. 

Every day bullets flew past their ears and columns of fire exploded in their wake, singeing the hair on the back of their necks and leaving Bucky’s ears ringing for hours. Bucky knew Steve could probably survive a bullet to the back, but he had no illusions about himself. Soldier he might be, but he was no more super than anyone else in the platoon. If Bucky died tomorrow or the next day or even in a few hours, he’d die having spent a damn fine amount of time working Steve’s cock until he came with shivers and moans and Bucky’s name falling from his lips. 

He’s still putting together the pieces, but it’s been a little over seventy years since Steve’s been touched, and the bits of Bucky that James has are more than happy to remedy the situation. He was unsure, when Steve first found him. He was hardly present enough to notice where or who he was, let alone what had been going on with Steve. He knew that Natalia . . . Natasha looked at Steve in the same way Steve looked at her, and in the parts where human instinct still lived, it looked like trust. Trust was a powerful thing in people like them. 

The more pieces of himself that started to solidify, the more James became Bucky. And the more Bucky grew, the more he could process. When he was more Bucky, at least in feeling, than Winter Soldier, he learned that there was a whole team of people that trusted Steve just as much as Steve trusted them, but Steve never looked at any of them like he looked at Bucky. How Tony Stark looked at Pepper, but sadder. Bucky was surprised to find that he wanted to wipe that sadness away. He hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything but keeping himself grounded in 2016 since Steve found him. 

The first time it happened was Bucky’s first mission alongside Steve. He’d had a few runs with Natasha, a few runs with Clint, and after that a few solo rounds, but he had the feeling that Steve was very carefully letting Bucky adapt to the world around him without the ever present hovering of Steve’s eyes. Bucky suspected it was as much about Steve getting over his fear of letting Bucky out of his sight, as it was about getting over Bucky’s fears of breaking apart while Steve wasn’t there to hold him together. 

When Natasha was assigned to be the first one he went on a mission with, his suspicions were confirmed. She wasn’t Steve, but he trusted her. Clint, not so much, but Natasha trusted him, and Bucky didn’t doubt that once Clint ceased to be a total stranger to him, he would trust Clint too. 

Logic aside, he yearned to bring the color of new memories to the shaky Steve’s stories supplied of all the missions they’d gone on together during the war. He was eager to restore the piece of himself made of Steve’s banter and the press of his shoulder blades against Bucky’s surrounded by Hydra operatives. Hairpin escapes and Steve’s sweaty, shit eating grin when their work was finally complete. When their first mission together finally came, it took every ounce of discipline Bucky had to not pace the floor of the Quinjet. 

By the time they reached their target, Bucky was so jittery, Steve could see him shaking. He walked up next to Bucky and cleared his throat before he curled his hand around Bucky’s neck. “Got the jitters?” His voice and mouthed teased, but when Bucky turned his head to meet his eyes, they were dark and searching. People shook for all sorts of reasons, and Steve wouldn’t have been surprised if this particular reason happened to be trauma or fear or a dissociative episode or all three rolled into some unholy terror.  
Bucky laughed softly and brought his metal hand up to rest on Steve’s.

Steve had flinched only once when touched by the cold metal. The first time he laid on eyes on Bucky after nearly a year of searching, and he’d been unsure if Bucky was reaching out to touch his cheek or crush his windpipe. He’d never flinched again. “Excited to be getting back to the good times. Just you and me.” Bucky hesitated before adding the words he'd clung to during the nights he’d been on the run. “‘Till the end of the line.” 

Steve's jaw clenched and his eyes slipped closed and for a split second Bucky considered leaping from the plane to be a more desirable option than hearing whatever Steve said next. But then Steve’s eyes opened again and they shined with warmth. Bucky could’ve kissed him right then and there. His lips ached for it, but he squeezed Steve’s hand and stepped off the Quinjet. His mind slid into his limbs and his lungs and the flesh that gave under his hands.

Five men were at Bucky's feet before Steve's voice crackled along the comms, “Bucky! Find the servers! I’ll take Folsom!” 

“Got it. Watch your back, Rogers.” Bucky pushed the hair out of his face and winked at Steve. "Half a pack says I find you before you're done whacking the last goons back to their motherland" The crack of a guard's skull against the butt of his own gun echoed over his voice.  
The servers weren’t hard to find. Bucky didn’t know a whole lot about computers, but the fans that kept them cool made a lot of noise, and the insulation in this evil hideout was surprisingly sucktacular. 

“Bucky, what’s your status?” 

“Almost wrapped up here. You need backup?” Bucky skin crawled with the need to move, move, move. To react to the thunk and screech of bullets ricocheting off Steve’s shield in his ear. 

“Wouldn’t hurt, I guess.” Even breathless, Steve sounded cocky, and something Bucky almost didn’t identify as fond arousal burned down the length of his spine. One thing at a time.

The guard holding a gun to Steve's head was jerked away with a violent cry, and Steve turned to meet Bucky's smug grin. Bucky glanced down at the guard and cocked an eyebrow at Steve. "Thank the Lord I'm here to save your ass, huh?" 

"I don't know. Natasha's talks less." Steve shrugged and lifted Folsom's limp body up over his shoulder from the patch of floor he'd dropped him on when the group of guards had descended. 

In the split second Steve turned away to head back down the corridor, Bucky saw the man stir, saw the killswitch clenched loosely in his hand and the wire trailing down his sleeve, and acted. "Steve!" He pulled Folsom off Steve's shoulder by his coat and heaved him as far down the corridor as his metal arm would allow. He threw himself into Steve and down to the floor just as the concussive blast knocked his brain against his skull and heat engulfed him.

Bucky didn't understand what he was feeling or how he could still feel anything at all until he opened his eyes. He Steve's shield blocking his vision. Steve's arm wrapped around his shoulders and Steve's cheek and jaw pressed against Bucky's forehead. Steve spasmed and his entire body relaxed. He eyed Bucky from the corners of his vision with a weary smile, "Whoops." and Bucky couldn't have stopped himself if he'd even wanted to try.

He pressed his lips against Steve's and the breath he sucked in tasted of dirt and sweat and the granola and milk Steve had eaten for breakfast that morning. Steve's lips were soft and firm and everything Bucky suddenly remembered them being. Bucky jumped as the shield clanged against the concrete floor and Steve's hand came up to fist in his long hair. 

For a second they scrabbled awkwardly, and then Steve was half sitting up between Bucky's knees as Bucky crouched over him and Steve's tongue was sliding against Bucky's bottom lip and Bucky was so, so hard in that instant. Every sense memory he had of Steve's touch, Steve's tongue, Steve's weight on top of him, Steve's straining muscle under him, every single memory filled in the gaps alongside where Bucky always felt the weight and taste of Steve in his mouth and on his tongue and it was all too much.

"Bucky . . . Buck . . . James." Steve's voice filtered through and Bucky realized he was hovering over Steve's lips, his breath coming in heavy pants as his erection strained against it's confines. He met Steve's eyes and quickly dropped them as their pilot's voice echoed over the lines. 

"Status Captain?"

Steve winked at Bucky and pushed himself off the ground. "Files recovered. Folsom's dead. We're headed your way for extraction." Bucky blinked up at him and Steve smirked. "If I had known it was that easy to shut you up, I would have kissed you a year ago." 

Bucky was up and on his feet before the last vowel faded from Steve's lips.

Bucky thanked every deity he remembered from school for the row of seats separating them from the pilot when he peeled the suit off of Steve's shoulders and down his torso. Hard planes and valley's of muscle under his hands flushed red with sweat and, if the growing bulge Bucky could see under the suit and feel under his palm was any indication, arousal. Bucky hadn't felt so good being on his knees in seventy years. 

"Buck . . ." Steve's gasp was whisper soft and his hands clenched even tighter around the hard plastic arms of the seat. If the pilot heard, he gave nothing away. Bucky couldn't think of quieting Steve down. He could only think of hearing that noise again and again, of hearing all the other noises Steve could make while Bucky's teeth scraped over a nipple and he sucked to soothe. 

The muscles of Steve's stomach quivered under his touch and Bucky lapped up the sweat. The scrape of his stubble over sensitive skin made Steve's cock jump. Bucky pulled the tight material of the suit further down until his nose met the fine dusting of hair. He flicked his eyes up to Steve's, want and curiosity and apprehension and slightly off-balanced fear all rapped up in desperate arousal swirling darkly in his eyes. Steve's hand came up to soothe through Bucky's hair and he nodded, his thumb trailing over Bucky's parted and reddened lips. 

He lifted his hips so Bucky could slide the suit down just the bit farther needed to expose the long ridge of his cock. Bucky had always remembered this. He licked a stripe up the underside of Steve's cock and moaned before he could hold it in, stifling himself around the head. Steve's hips jerked and Bucky choked before getting his flesh and blood hand around the base and following the bob of his head with a firm stroke around Steve's cock. 

Steve's fervent apologies were drowned out by the moan that he sank his teeth into his hand to stifle. It vibrated through his body and Bucky sucked harder, hips bucking forward into nothing but air as the jolt and prickle of arousal he hadn't felt in decades bolted through him. Bucky swirled his tongue over the head of Steve's cock and could have come just from Steve shaking apart under him.

"Bucky . . . Buck!" Steve tries to warn him, tries to pull his head back and off his cock, but Bucky wants to taste. Steve comes in his mouth and the warm, salty taste coats his tongue. Bucky licks away every last drop. He slumps against Steve's thigh and frantically fights to get his pants open. On the third try he succeeds. He shoves them down roughly. His cock is red and angry when he finally gets it in hand and it only takes three, four hard jerks before he's coming all over his hand and bruising the inside of Steve's thigh with his teeth.

Steve is miles and miles of exposed skin over him. He's also fingers stroking gently through Bucky's hair. They moved down his jaw when he lifts his head to meet Steve's eyes. "Damn Barnes." He grunts. Bucky can't wait until this thing lands and they can find a bed.


End file.
